Intelligent Design: A Monster Evolution LitRPG

David's claws scraped uselessly against the linoleum of the forest floor, his wings snapping the air frantically as he tried to right himself. The looming shadow behind him grew larger, its presence an oppressive weight on his very soul. He could feel its hot breath on his neck, smell the decay wafting from its maw.

"No, no, no," David whimpered, his voice barely above a whisper. He tried to summon his Miasma, to create a cloud of roiling death, but all that emerged was a pathetic wisp of smoke. His decoys, usually so reliable, flickered and faded like cheap holograms before they could even fully form.

The creature's claws raked across his back, sending shockwaves of pain through his body. David screamed, a sound that started as a shriek and morphed into something primal and bestial. He lashed out blindly, talons slicing through empty air as his attacker danced just out of reach.

"Claire!" he cried out, desperation tinging his voice. "Where are you? I need-"

The words died in his throat as massive jaws clamped down on his wing. With a sickening crunch, David felt bones shatter. The world spun, ground and sky blurring together as he was shaken like a ragdoll. His vision began to tunnel, darkness creeping in at the edges...

David's eyes snapped open, his heart pounding like it was trying to escape his chest.

Without thinking, he unleashed a blast of Echolocation. The sound waves bounced off the cramped confines of the gas station bathroom, painting a crystal-clear picture of... absolutely nothing threatening.

Well, unless you count the suspicious stains on the ceiling. Pretty sure those violated several health codes even before the apocalypse.

As his panic subsided, David became aware of the Cuddlebugs scattered around him, still deep in slumber. Captain's tiny form was curled up in the sink, using what looked like an abandoned bird's nest as a makeshift bed. Its snores sounded like a malfunctioning slide whistle, rising and falling in an oddly melodic rhythm.

"Right," David muttered, his voice rough from sleep. "Just a dream. A really shitty dream, but still just a dream."

He stretched, his wings unfurling to their full span in the confined space. His joints popped and cracked, sounding alarmingly like bubble wrap being murdered. With a grace that was at odds with his unnerving appearance, David dropped from his perch on the bathroom stall, landing silently on the grimy floor.

Creeping towards the door, David pushed against the rusted hinges. They protested with a screech that made him wince, but eventually gave way. The cool night air hit him like a slap to the face, chasing away the last cobwebs of sleep.

The sun had almost completely set, painting the sky in bruised purples and angry reds. The landscape before him was a testament to nature's vigor – and humanity's absence. The cracked asphalt of what used to be a highway was now little more than a suggestion, broken chunks of concrete peeking out from beneath a sea of encroaching vegetation.

David yawned, his jaw unhinging to reveal a maw that would give dentists nightmares. His freakishly long tongue lolled out, and for a brief, horrifying moment, he wondered if he could touch his ears with it.

Note to self: resist urge to find out. Some questions are better left unanswered.

He stretched again, this time with gusto. His body contorted in ways that would make an exorcist do a double-take, muscles shifting beneath his fur in a way that was equal parts fascinating and disturbing. With a final, violent shake that started at his head and rippled down to his haunches, David felt truly awake.

Behind him, the Cuddlebugs were starting to stir. They flitted over to join him at the door, their tiny wings beating with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Captain was the last to arrive, looking about as alert as a stoner at an 8 AM calculus class. Its eyes were unfocused, blinking out of sync in a way that was both concerning and oddly endearing.

David couldn't resist. He reached out with a wingtip, gently booping the sliver of tongue protruding from Captain's mouth. The tiny creature's eyes crossed, focusing on the offending digit before slowly, almost comically, sucking its tongue back in.

"Rise and shine, you fuzzy little gremlin," David chuckled. "We've got places to be."

As the Cuddlebugs began their morning routines – which seemed to consist mainly of grooming each other and chirping excitedly – David's mind wandered back to the conversation that had set him on this path.

Dallas and Kai had cornered him by the river farms, their expressions a mix of concern and determination. The memory of their words still bouncing around his mind:

"Look, David," Dallas had buzzed, his wings twitching with barely contained energy. "We've got this under control. Well, as 'under control' as a bunch of freshly-hatched monster babies can be."

Kai had nodded, his metallic feathers catching the sunlight. "What Dallas is trying to say, in his uniquely tactless way, is that you don't need to stay here and play den mother. Especially not when Claire is... well, you know."

The reminder of Claire's absence had sent a pang through David's chest. He'd opened his mouth to protest, but Kai had cut him off with an avian glare that could have melted steel.

"We know you care about Woodland," the bird had continued. "And trust me, a lot of folks here are pretty fond of Claire too. But everyone's got a job to do, and we can't just drop everything to go on a rescue mission."

"Yeah," Dallas had chimed in, attempting to soften his usual abruptness. "But you, my broody bat friend, are basically a freelancer. You've done more for this place than anyone could have asked. Hell, we've even got Esmeralda's Caravan helping out for now. If anyone's earned the right to go on a Claire-hunt, it's you."

David chuckled softly at the memory. They'd been trying so hard to be supportive, jostling and poking at him like they were in some kind of bromantic comedy. It was equal parts touching and hilarious.

He'd even hugged them both before leaving. Kai's feathers had given him what felt like a thousand paper cuts, and Dallas's wings had made the whole endeavor awkward as hell, but the sentiment had been there.

"Alright, team," David announced to his furry entourage. "Break time's over. We've got a lizard to find, a mystery to solve, and probably some bullshit to avoid. You know, just another Tuesday in paradise."

With a few lazy steps and a powerful beat of his wings, David took to the sky. The Cuddlebugs fell into formation around him, their tiny forms barely visible in the gathering darkness. As they soared over the broken landscape, he couldn't shake the lingering unease from his dream.

Night air whispered past David's ears as he climbed higher, each powerful wingbeat carrying him further into the star-studded darkness. Below, the landscape unfolded like a twisted diorama - nature's revenge against civilization painted in shades of silver moonlight. The remnants of human infrastructure were barely visible beneath the aggressive spread of mutated vegetation, looking more like the bones of extinct creatures than the highways and roads they'd once been.

Abandoned vehicles dotted the landscape like discarded toys, their rusted shells providing shelter for who-knows-what these days. The old industrial district had long since surrendered to the encroaching wilderness, its factories and warehouses now serving as elaborate trellises for vines that pulsed with a faint luminescence.

Well, that's appropriately post-apocalyptic. All we're missing is some leather-clad raiders and a two-headed Max.

David closed his eyes, reaching deep within himself to touch the Pack System. The connection to Claire was still there, maddeningly faint, like trying to hear a whisper during a concert. He wheeled slowly through the air, letting his mind drift, focusing only on that gossamer thread of connection.

As he banked South, something changed. The sensation shifted, becoming... not stronger exactly, but somehow clearer. David's eyes snapped open, his wings automatically adjusting to hold position against the wind. He hovered there, beating his wings in slow, powerful strokes, the air currents helping him maintain his spot like some oversized, nightmarish buzzard.

Wait, is this like one of those 'getting warmer, getting colder' games? Am I facing the wrong way or... no, has to be the right way. When did my life turn into a game of Marco Polo?

His eyes narrowed as the implications sank in. South meant the coast, and the coast meant... oh hell no.

Please don't be over the ocean. I can barely doggy paddle, and I really don't want to find out what Cthulhu's been up to since the apocalypse started.

Still, what choice did he have? With a mental shrug that screamed 'future David's problem,' he nudged his Cuddlebug squadron. Power flowed into his wings, his Wildsoul responding to his need as naturally as breathing. The tiny fuzzballs perked up, sensing the imminent acceleration.

David's wings came down in a thunderous crack that seemed to split the night itself. The burst of speed was explosive, pressing his ears flat against his skull as the landscape below became a blur of shadow and moonlight. His wings beat frantically, each stroke pushing him faster until the wind screamed past his face and forced him to squint.

Once he'd built up enough speed, David let himself glide, trading altitude for velocity. The sensation was intoxicating - part falling, part flying, all adrenaline. His eyes scanned the ground below, watching trees whip past like dark sentinels in the night.

Something felt... off. His stamina was regenerating normally during this brief rest, but his Wildsoul... David focused inward, probing at the sensation. There was definitely something there, a tiny but steady stream of power feeding into his reserves, offsetting his usage like...

The hell? Did I accidentally subscribe to Wildsoul+? Premium membership includes bonus energy and free shipping?

Before he could properly investigate this new development, movement caught his eye. A herd of what might have once been cattle grazed in a moonlit clearing below. Their bodies were wrong though - too many legs, horns sprouting in places horns had no business being, hides that seemed to ripple and shift in the darkness.

His stomach growled, reminding him that dream-induced panic attacks burned a lot of calories. After a moment's consideration, David shook his head.

Food can wait. Claire first, then we'll worry about satisfying my apparently bottomless pit of a stomach. Though I really hope whatever we're heading towards has a decent cafeteria…

The hours slipped by like quicksilver as David sailed through the night sky, the endless rhythm of his wingbeats a backdrop to his racing thoughts. Something about that weird energy trickle kept nagging at him, like an itch he couldn't quite reach.

Let's see... Random energy appearing from nowhere. Probably not great. Definitely smells like Overseer shenanigans.

He prodded at his Wildsoul experimentally, the way you might poke a suspicious package with a very long stick. The energy continued its steady feed, maddeningly consistent.

"Because that's not ominous at all," David muttered to the night air. "Hey Captain, want to place bets on whether this is going to bite me in the ass later?"

Captain, riding the updraft beside him, offered a chirp that somehow managed to convey both 'obviously' and 'we got this’.

"Yeah, that's what I thought too. Knowing my luck, Omega's probably charging interest. 'Oh, you used our complimentary Wildsoul refills? Time to fight Cthulhu's angry cousin in the Thunderdome for two xp!'"

Still, something about it felt... familiar. Not the energy itself, but the way it moved. Like a wind he could feel with his soul instead of his body, threading through reality like invisible currents.

Wait a second...

David reached out with his Wildsoul, trying to track the sensation. Just to test his theory, he summoned a thin tendril of Miasma, letting it trail behind him like the world's most ominous contrail.

"Let's not accidentally create death clouds over some poor fucker trying to sleep," he reminded himself, carefully controlling the output. "That'd be a hell of a way to make first contact. 'Sorry about the rain of doom, here's a fruit basket!'"

The Miasma dissipated quickly in the high-altitude winds, but David noticed something interesting. The energy he'd spent snapped back rapidly, like a rubber band made of pure nightmare fuel.

Interesting. Very interesting. I wonder...

He tried Siren's Call next, letting his voice roll across the empty sky in a haunting melody. The energy spent there... just stayed spent. No magical refill, no weird top-up.

"Huh," David mused, pieces clicking together in his mind. "Offensive abilities get the express lane treatment, but Restorative stuff is economy class only. I wonder if-"

The memory of the Origination Pulse system text suddenly crashed into his thoughts like a drunk uncle bringing up fringe politics at Thanksgiving dinner.

Oh, right. Token. Pulse of Origination. That was a thing that happened. Good job, Detective Dumbass.

Still, he couldn't help feeling a little proud of figuring out at least part of it on his own. Even if the answer had been literally spelled out for him earlier.

"Has to be connected to Omega's Originator," he reasoned aloud, his voice nearly lost in the wind. "No way Mr. 'Violence Is The Answer And The Question Is Irrelevant' would boost anything other than damaging..."

His Wildsoul twitched reflexively towards Doom Blade, curiosity warring with common sense. After a moment's consideration, common sense won out – barely.

Some lessons you only need to learn once. Like 'don't test potentially apocalyptic abilities mid-flight.' Or 'never eat gas station sushi.' Though I guess that second one's less relevant these days...

The Cuddlebugs swooped and dove around him, playing their own aerial games as he pondered. Captain maintained its position near David's head, occasionally offering chirps of commentary in response that managed to sound judgmental despite the language barrier.

"You know," David called out to his tiny companion, "for something that basically appeared out of thin air, you've got an awful lot of opinions about my life choices."

Captain's response was to perform a perfect barrel roll and turn their snout up smugly.

"Show off," David muttered, but there was laughter hidden in his voice. If anything, the familiar banter helped keep his mind off the growing certainty that whatever waited at the end of this flight was going to be... interesting.

And not in the fun 'surprise party' way. More in the 'Oh God, Oh Fuck' way that seemed to be the new normal these days.

As if summoned by his dark thoughts, something caught David's attention. A prickling along his spine, then a cold certainty in his gut. He'd been gliding on autopilot, lost in thought about the weird energy feed into his Wildsoul, when his instincts screamed danger. His eyes snapped to the cloud formation above, watching as it drifted in direct opposition to the prevailing winds.

No, not drifting. Hunting.

Patches of light pulsed through the cloud cover like heat lightning, and David's blood ran cold as his sensitive eyes picked out massive shapes lurking in the vapor. Whatever they were, they were big. Too big.

His wings tensed, ready to dive, but he'd already hesitated a fraction too long. The clouds didn't just part - they exploded outward as massive pale forms released their buoyancy in a single violent burst. The creatures plummeted towards him like living artillery, all writhing tentacles and nightmare-fuel beaks.

Flying fart-squids. Naturally. It's been, like, a few whole days since something tried to eat me alive, I shoulda figured.

Their tentacles streamed behind them like living ribbons, each one easily as long as David's wingspan. The bioluminescent patches that had mimicked lightning now rippled along their mantles, and their beaks - Jesus Christ, their beaks - looked like they could shear through steel.

David banked hard right as the sky erupted into chaos. "Scatter!" he barked at his Cuddlebugs, but he'd underestimated the squids' mobility. One of the creatures snapped its tentacles forward like living whips, using the momentum of its dive to change direction with impossible grace. Two more flanked him, their gas bladders already reinflating as they cut off his escape routes.

"Right," David snarled, his fur rippling to match the darkness around him. "Let's dance."

He pulsed his Wildsoul through Cackle for the first time, feeling the power surge through his connection to the Cuddlebugs. Captain let out a war-chirp that sounded suspiciously like a tiny battle cry, and the swarm attacked.

The nearest air-squid barely seemed to notice the first few impacts, but then the toxins hit. Its tentacles slowed slightly, throwing off its perfect aerial coordination. David seized the moment, firing an empowered Corruptor's Touch directly into its beak.

The substance boiled into Miasma on impact, and the creature's shriek sent shivers down David's spine. But he had no time to celebrate - the others were already moving.

A forest of tentacles filled his vision as three of the monsters attacked simultaneously. David split into multiple images, his decoys scattering in different directions as tentacles whistled through empty air. But one lucky strike found flesh, wrapping around his leg with crushing force.

"Get fucked!" David roared, unleashing a concentrated burst of Caustic Miasma that ate through the tentacle like acid through tissue paper. The severed appendage thrashed wildly as its owner reeled back, leaving David free to dive as the ruined flesh dissolved off his leg in sticky clumps.

He plummeted through the night sky, wings tucked tight, counting on his superior speed to gain some distance. But the air-squids matched his dive perfectly, their gas bladders contracting with precision to maintain pursuit. Worse, two more had circled beneath him, closing like the jaws of some enormous trap.

Well, this is going to suck.

The trap closed like a venus flytrap made of tentacles and pure bullshit. David's wings snapped open, arresting his dive with a sound like canvas tearing. The sudden change in direction sent two air-squids careening past him, their massive forms briefly tangling before gas-propelled bursts separated them.

But he'd played right into their trap. The ones above had anticipated the maneuver, their tentacles spreading wide like some horrible net. David spat a concentrated glob of mucus at the nearest monster's mantle, watching with grim satisfaction as it erupted into caustic vapor. The creature recoiled, its bioluminescent patches flaring crimson with pain or rage.

"Captain!" David barked, his voice carrying the power of Siren's Call. "Hit and run!"

The Cuddlebugs responded with terrifying efficiency, breaking into smaller groups that darted between the air-squids' tentacles. Their tiny fangs delivered doses of toxin with each pass, gradually building up weakness in their massive opponents. But there were too many targets, too many writhing appendages filling the sky.

A tentacle caught one of the Cuddlebugs mid-flight, crushing it instantly. David felt the death through their connection like a punch to the gut. Rage boiled up, hot and familiar.

"Asshole!" he snarled, splitting into successive decoys as he charged the squid that had killed his summon. His decoys scattered in different directions, one at a time, but he stayed with the last one, riding its momentum straight toward the creature's beak. At the last second, he pulled up, unleashing a concentrated stream of Miasma directly into its feeding tentacles.

The air-squid's shriek of agony was cut short as the paralytic properties took hold. It began to fall, its gas bladders spasming uselessly as the toxins spread through its system.

The victory was short-lived. Something slammed into David from behind, wrapping around his torso with crushing force. He had just enough time to snarl before another tentacle wrapped around his wings, pinning them to his sides.

David roared, his fur rippling frantically as he struggled against the restraint. But the squid's grip was too tight, and he could feel his ribs creaking under the pressure. His vision began to spot as the breath was squeezed from his lungs.

The beast started to pull him toward its beak, and David caught a glimpse of what waited within its maw - rows of hooked teeth leading back to certain death. His Wildsoul surged with desperate energy, and he could feel that strange wind pushing more power into him, but would it be enough?

Time to find out just how much these things like auditory hallucinations.

David's Siren's Call erupted into the night sky like a sonic bomb, carrying with it every ounce of terror and rage he could muster. The sound twisted through the air like a living thing, boring into primitive minds with surgical precision. The air-squids' bioluminescent patches strobed wildly as the effects took hold.

The one holding him loosened its grip just enough. David didn't waste the opportunity, coating himself in a thick layer of Miasma that boiled through tentacle flesh like supernatural acid. The beast's shriek of pain harmonized perfectly with his own roar of triumph as he tore free, trailing streamers of dissolving tissue.

Two more squids dove at him, but their movements were erratic now. David's innate aura of terror had finally started to seep in, combining with the hallucinations to break their hunting focus. One missed him completely, spiraling past as it battled phantoms only it could see. The other he met head-on, his talons raking deep gouges across its mantle as he split into a decoy at the last second.

"What's wrong?" David hissed, his voice echoing unnaturally. "Lost your appetite?"

The remaining air-squids began to cluster together, their tentacles writhing in obvious agitation. Their bioluminescent patches pulsed in rapid patterns - some kind of simple communication, David realized. Below, the paralyzed ones had finally hit the ground with meaty thuds that echoed through the night.

The lead squid, sporting a nasty gash across its mantle, started to descend. The others followed, their gas bladders deflating in controlled bursts. For a moment, David thought they were preparing another attack. Then he saw them extending their feeding tentacles toward their fallen brethren.

"Oh, that's just nasty," David muttered, watching from above as the survivors began to tear into the paralyzed ones. "Really? Right in front of my Cuddlebugs? Have some class."

Captain landed on his shoulder, chirping in what sounded suspiciously like disgust. The tiny creature was splattered with squid gore, its fur matted with ichorous fluids that David really didn't want to identify.

Speaking of fluids...

David glanced down at himself and immediately regretted it. His fur was coated in a rainbow of biological materials, some still gently smoking from contact with his Miasma. He looked like he'd gone swimming in a blender full of calamari and food coloring.

"Well," he announced to no one in particular, shaking himself vigorously and immediately regretting it as globules of goo went flying, "that was fun. Nothing like a little squid wrestling to get the blood pumping. Piece of cake, really."

Captain's judgmental stare could have instantly killed a squid if any of them were still in the fight.

"Oh shut up," David grumbled, already beating his wings to gain altitude. "Let's get moving before they finish their family dinner and decide they want dessert."

As they soared higher into the night sky, leaving behind the sounds of enthusiastic cannibalism, David tried to focus on the positive. He was alive, still moving in the right direction, mostly unharmed, and had only lost one Cuddlebug in the fight. Plus, he'd learned something valuable:

Even in a world gone mad, there were still things that could look at his nightmare-fuel form and think "food." Whether that was comforting or terrifying remained to be seen.

Still heading south, David did his best to ignore the squishing sounds his wings made with each beat. He had bigger problems to worry about - like what kind of horrible stuff waited for him over the ocean.

Because after air-squids, it could only get worse from here.